


living like the sky is on fire

by iwaizumemes (skytramp)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/iwaizumemes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>collection of poems</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. warning label: not good

Though you'd  
never say it out loud, you want him.  
And he'll let you have him no matter what.  
  
You want him in a way  
you never let yourself want anything  
besides winning.  
  
And it hurts;  
the way he's claimed you, (it was you  
who should have been doing the claiming)  
every touch of his hands, a brand-  
every single breath  
against your neck.  
  
And you'd say  
he needs a warning:  
_keep away from boys like him_.  
  
But you only want him for yourself.  
Keep away from boys like him  
because he's mine, you'd say.


	2. again and again, I return

Sometimes, it feels like gravity  
           the force that brings us together;  
                 hands on hands,  
                 mouths on mouths,  
it’s stronger than whatever   
is keeping my feet on the ground.  
  
When your poisoned lips  
tell me words that I wish were lies,  
and I lie myself true,  
your hands spell   
every want that you feel,   
intricate patterns in the sweat on my thighs.  
  
And I’m not as innocent as I once was  
but I’ll still beg you to teach me,  
beg on my sore knees while   
you laugh down at me.  
 _You’ll never beat me._  
But who told you I ever wanted to?  
  
  
My life is a road with no forks,  
            [take the road less traveled.]  
I’ll take the  _only_  road, the road that leads  
to your bed,   
every time.


	3. floral scented dish soap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one specifically was a remix of a poem by [Baekawa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/baekawa) found here

The list of things you never told him  
and things he never told you  
grows longer every passing second.  
And you don't talk any more because  
you told  yourself he stopped listening first.   
  
The smell of lavender always haunts you,  
and you wish you could wash dishes  
without thinking of his fingers   
scrubbing through your hair,  
and the  
vulnerability  
that you once let yourself feel.  
  
It doesn’t feel right, anymore,   
that every time you take a shower   
he isn’t humming nearby.  
  
Happiness doesn’t last  
and it’s strange, how he was always afraid   
that you’d leave him behind,  
but you’re the one sitting on the floor  
and he’s   
somewhere


	4. wanted to sink

The push. I feel it in my hands  
on his shoulders, they shove hard- and the  
pull: what I want, what he wants. When  
we fall together for a moment, just   
one moment then-- push.  
  
 _I never wanted him anyway._  
I laugh and   
I lie   
and the darkness is gone.  
  
But I wanted, I wanted to sink   
into the pit, let it swallow me whole  
let you swallow me.   
And your mouth is on mine  
and your hips are on mine and  
I can tell myself I’m letting you win.


	5. mark me like i belong to you

When he says it's all my fault  
he means it like a promise, like a compliment,   
and he says it   
with a reverence my ears can’t hear.  
  
To me it sounds like an accusation,   
like a crime. He stole everything I wouldn’t teach him   
in the night, pulled it from my lips,  
with his lips,  
and left his own marks in return.   
  
And I can’t pinpoint the exact moment   
that he passed me,  
but every step he takes beyond tugs   
at my chest as if we were joined by a string.   
  
He looks back with every step, and the look in his eyes,  
the taunting edge that screams  _better than you_ ,  
just might be whispering  _thank you_  
with hesitance that I’ll never believe.   
  
And it leaves me wondering,   
why he would even still be looking.


	6. veins as communal property

Sometimes you wonder, is   
it only the fact that he knows you’ll come back  
that brings you back again?   
  
The poison of his lips is little more  
than a memory, a  
hangover that you feel in your chest and between your thighs,  
but you’re broken and pining  
for another taste of him.  
  
He’s not an addiction,   
though you tear at your throat and cry from the longing pain of it,  
you can leave him behind any time that you want.  
  
And it’s easy to tell yourself   
that you don’t want to leave,  
when he’s laughing and   
whispering something possessive in your ear.  
  
You suppose you’ll never know if  
it's only him that’s running through your veins.


	7. Rust

You're just loose skin over ruined ribs,  
the shadow of a smile. You taste  
of dirt and rust; the last tinge of leftover glory.

Rust coats thick-  
a taste on your tongue, just ruined steel,  
but you hold, squeezing knuckles until they're white,  
until your fingers bleed red-orange. 

And when he finally comes  
to you-- to tear down your castle walls,  
to rip the throne  
from your fingertips-- you scream. 

Slam the doors,  
break down your own battlements  
to bury him.

He looks up to you,  
his eyes are blue like  
the sky that you never remember to see,  
and he offers you his hand.

You laugh before you cry.

Rusted, flaking steel, cold and hard,  
_fragile like you,_  
hold tight.

You watch the light fade from his eyes,  
he leaves you alone,  
as if that was your plan all along.


	8. broken together

Press purple-blue-black bruises in the space below   
your shirt collar, with mouths and hands-- teeth and fingernails,  
and when you scream I know its more out of pleasure  
than pain,  
or maybe not,  
but I'm not quite sure that I care. 

Maybe there's a reason that we fit,   
not like puzzle pieces, but like the   
mangled metal of a car crash.  
So wrapped around each other with the  
beauty of death, destruction, that we lost who we once were.

Somehow now you're me,  
and maybe I'm you,  
but I'll only stop fighting when we're both too broken to move.

It's okay as long as you lose too.


	9. soap

My soapy fingers are in your hair   
and you say you smell like me.  
smell like me,   
taste like me,   
breathe like our lungs are linked

_if you drown you better drown in me._

Just remember that I’m there,   
the soapy residue clogging your pores,   
you can’t scrub me away without leaving your skin raw and red  
and I’d kiss your wounds healed if you asked. 

I want you right here,   
between my knees,  
with my hands in your hair and the water running   
down your throat


End file.
